Minjae looked up at the Hongdae sky, a mischievous smile tugging at his lips.
"If she really is a fortune-teller, I just hope she can't read my mind. But honestly… I'm dying to know more about her."
Hyunbin raised his glass and smirked. "Relax, Minjae. Let's just wait. This real-life drama's about to get wild."
Jiwoo gave a faint smile, shaking his head, though his eyes gleamed — unsure whether from curiosity or amusement at his cousins' nonsense.
Just then, Naima strolled by casually, Johann walking beside her.
Hyunbin froze mid-sip, mouth agape. He pointed, hand trembling.
"Th-that's her… the fortune-teller?!"
Jiwoo's brows shot up. "No way… she's right in front of us?!"
Meanwhile, Minjae only shrugged and took another sip of soju.
"Well… if she really is, I'm cool. I'm immune to real-life drama now," he muttered, showing zero panic.
Hyunbin gawked at him. "Cool?! Dude, that's Naima! She was literally in a photo with her foreign husband this afternoon — and now she's walking with him, right there!"
Jiwoo stayed silent, eyes glued to Naima, while Hyunbin looked seconds away from bursting.
Minjae just winked, his face saying: You guys are way too dramatic.
The air around them mixed tension, confusion, and absurd comedy.
Minjae stepped forward with a bright grin. "Mr. Treublut!" he called cheerfully.
Johann smiled stiffly, trying to sound natural. "Ah, Minjae. What a coincidence to run into you here."
"Yeah… hi, Mrs. Treublut," said Minjae, bowing slightly.
Naima quickly waved it off, smiling sweetly. "Just call me Naima."
Minjae glanced back at the two men behind him. "Actually, I'm hanging out with my cousins. Want to join us?"
Naima blinked, wide-eyed. "Wait… Hyunbin? Jiwoo? They're your cousins?"
Johann frowned. "You… know them?"
Naima nodded awkwardly. "I had lunch at Hyunbin's restaurant, and Jiwoo — the vet — even gave me a ride home from the park."
Minjae chuckled meaningfully. "Well, looks like the world's smaller than we thought!"
"This is so weird," Naima murmured, shaking her head. "In the original drama, their relationship was never revealed. Jiwoo didn't even appear at all! So he was a deleted scene?! And Minjae — the flamboyant barista — turns out to be a café CEO? A chaebol's grandson?! If they're cousins, that means they all share the same chaebol grandfather! My brain's gonna explode."
She sighed, looking up at the Seoul evening sky.
"I wasn't supposed to have a husband here… it'd be way more fun if I could flirt around with these rich, handsome oppas. But whatever. It's my ridiculous dream — might as well enjoy it while it lasts."
Naima chuckled softly, patting her thigh.
"Who cares? I'll just enjoy the chaos — including this new 'lost chaebol cousins' subplot that never existed!"
"Hey, guys," she leaned forward, eyes gleaming. "I'm curious. Why are all your last names Park? Don't tell me your dads are brothers."
The three men burst into laughter.
Hyunbin replied first, "Each of our dads is Park. Funny, right?"
Jiwoo added, "Yeah, even our moms get confused sometimes."
Minjae put on a mock-serious face. "You should see family gatherings. When someone yells 'Mr. Park!', ten people turn around."
Naima nodded, holding back laughter.
In her head: Okay, got it. They're cousins, all their dads are Parks. Totally normal in Korea… but my brain's buffering.
She looked at them one by one.
"So basically, if I call 'Mr. Park!', all three of you would answer, right?"
Hyunbin grinned. "Only if you say it cutely."
Naima facepalmed. "Oh my God. Why am I surrounded by K-drama flirts?"
---
After wandering around Hongdae, Naima and Johann finally headed back to the apartment.
The Seoul night air was warm, yet her heart beat faster as they approached the elevator.
"Wait… is that Jaeho?" she whispered, eyes widening.
"Oh no. I know Johann's apartment — even the door code — because it's from the same drama! But… wasn't that apartment supposed to belong to Jaeho? If he's going in there, does that mean… they're gonna fight over it?! This scene doesn't even exist in the show!"
Ding! The elevator doors slid open.
Naima instinctively hid behind Johann as Jaeho turned toward them, looking both tired and confused.
"Good evening," Johann greeted casually.
Jaeho gave a polite, weary smile — the kind that said 'I'm exhausted but still trying to be nice.'
Johann, ever the observant type, immediately caught on.
Okay, this guy's had a long day, he thought.
Once inside, Johann pressed 18. Jaeho just stood there, blank-eyed — like the elevator was his meditation booth.
Naima's panic spiked.
Oh no, don't tell me he's going to 18 too! He'll think we're stalking him!
Ding!
The doors opened at 18. Johann stepped out with Naima in tow. But through the reflective glass, she saw Jaeho still inside.
"Uh?" she blurted.
Johann turned. "You didn't press your floor."
"Oh, right," said Jaeho sheepishly, pressing 19.
Naima exhaled in relief. "Thank God…" she muttered.
Johann frowned. "What's wrong with you? You look nervous."
Naima gave him a dramatic look. "Your apartment — the layout, the code, even the furniture — it's exactly like Jaeho's."
Johann raised an eyebrow. "Naima, the apartments here come pre-furnished. But of course, I added a German touch."
Naima crossed her arms. "German touch? Like what? The furniture shouts in German?"
Johann grinned proudly. "First — a dedicated beer fridge. Second — knife set sharp enough to slice paper. Third — everything labeled by height, not alphabet."
Naima burst out laughing. "Oh, so that's why your towels are folded like military origami, and your shower gel smells like forest after rain."
"Exactly," he said, smug. "German precision, darling. Efficiency even in the bathroom."
Naima sighed, glancing at the apartment door.
No wonder the vibes were different — Jaeho's place was pure IKEA catalogue, Johann's was an espresso-and-beer museum.
---
After washing up, Naima emerged from the bathroom with damp hair, wearing Johann's oversized satin pajama shirt.
He was lounging on the sofa, watching a German channel — no subtitles.
"Here," he said, handing her a glass of warm milk… served in a beer mug.
Naima raised a brow. "You serve milk in a beer glass?"
Johann smirked. "German hospitality. Every drink deserves respect."
She grinned, sipping it down. "Hmm… creamy. Thanks. For the milk… and for today."
"For what exactly?"
"For letting me live in Korea, even just for a day. It's like… a dream come true."
Johann tilted his head. "That sounds like a goodbye speech."
"Of course. I'll go to sleep, and tomorrow—poof! I'll wake up in Jakarta."
He chuckled, setting the remote aside and leaning closer. "You think I'll let you go that easily?"
Naima narrowed her eyes playfully. "Why? You gonna tie me up with German bureaucracy?"
He smirked. "No paperwork. Just… this."
And with that, he kissed her deeply.